Taking Back Thursday

Like a lot of wannabe intellectuals, I’ve tried reading Ulysses by James Joyce. And like a lot of those wannabe intellectuals - particularly where the accent is on the 'wannabe' - I didn’t get very far. It’s not hard to read, it’s just that there is a lot of it, and it feels like being in a room where someone is telling jokes, and you’re the only one who isn’t getting them.

I know some people today still find it enjoyable and funny, so it can be understood. It was just going over my head. So I searched the web to try get what I was missing. I wanted to at least know if it was worth continuing, or hopefully find a Rosetta Stone for deciphering the humour in it. I found notes on the first chapter, and it went on endlessly about Catholic references. That surprised me — not that it was Catholic; I know many can laugh at themselves — but rather that it was so specific. Ulysses has more than a cult following; I’ve seen it top lists of the greatest books ever written. Surely its entire audience is more than just the Venn Diagram overlap of “Highly-Observant Catholics,” and, “Looking for Catholicism Humour.” That doesn't seem like enough people to propel a book to classic status.

So I’ve continued searching for ideas on how to enjoy the book. Most say it’s not about those religious references or about the parallels to the Odyssey, but about the manipulation of language and the celebration of common people surviving their daily struggles. There are many readers who will attest to how personally enjoyable they found the book, but there’s no real consensus on how to get something out of it: Some say it’s best as part of a class, some say you should just sit back and enjoy it without worrying about symbolism, some say you need a companion book to appreciate it. But the things people do agree about it are that it’s not really necessary to read the whole thing in order, and the first three chapters are kind of a drag. So I may yet try again.

In other old book news, I recently came across an odd title of a book: The Man Who Was Thursday by G. K. Chesterton. Given that it was written in 1908 — and thus even older than Ulysses — the title stood out as kind of avant garde. Also, I’m a fan of the “Thursday Next” books by Jasper Fforde, so perhaps I have a weird fascination with Thursday-related literature. I also noticed that, by coincidence, it had just passed into the public domain last year, so I downloaded it and gave early twentieth-century literature another chance.

To my surprise, I really enjoyed it. It’s the comic story of police efforts to infiltrate an anarchist organization. It has various flavours of satire, farce and surrealism, and delivers humour that feels relevant. It goes a bit off the rails at the end, as it tries to be more profound than it really should be. But I liked the rest enough to forgive it.

What made me think back to my aborted attempt at Ulysses is that it seems the difference is all in the subject matter of political and sociological philosophy. That’s more in my area of interest and background knowledge. So in contrast to Ulysses, I felt like I was in on the joke. It also has a lasting relevance: While the book’s big organization of nefarious rebels are termed, “anarchists,” really, you can insert your favourite ideology of revolutionaries who are too intellectual for their own good. And arguably, the book's age makes it more palatable: we’re insulated from the hot-button issues of the day, so it’s easier to view the concepts in the abstract. And, weird fact I discovered: Apparently there are references to The Man Who Was Thursday in the video game, Deus Ex. I must have missed those. But that weird juxtaposition helps prove the continued relevance.

(Yes, I just argued for the relevance of a 116-year-old book by mentioning its place in a 24-year-old video game. Yeah, that's the world we live in.)

Conversely, I can definitely imagine someone reading The Man Who Was Thursday and reacting the way I did to Ulysses. In the opening chapters, as the characters whip proclamations on the nature of art and human society back and forth, I can see many readers zoning out. But the point is, you may have to search to find something relevant to you, but you may yet find it in an unexpected place. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to hunt down a copy of Frederick Pohl’s Turn Left at Thursday.

Vexing Vexillology

I recently mentioned Canadian media mogul Moses Znaimer, and by coincidence, I recently came across a mention of a Polish man with the similar name Alfred Znamierowski. He was known as a great vexillological artist. That is, a great flag designer. That was of interest to me, because, like many nerdy people, I've always found flags fun. 

But I also have to ask, how does a person become known as a great flag designer? Okay, let's start with, how does a person become a flag designer? I mean, it's not like that's a big industry with a lot of work to do. You can't get a job at Flag Inc.

For instance, Canada's flag was designed by George Stanley, a historian. Note that he was a historian who once designed a flag, which doesn't make him a flag designer, because he designed that one flag, and that was pretty much all there was to do in that area. 

I can understand how you become, say, an architect, because there are always countless new buildings that need designing. But flags? Even if you count the flags of regions, cities, and organizations — that most people never see — that's still not a lot of work.

And it's not like flag design is that complex a concept. Just look at some of the flags in the world and you can see that not much effort gets put into them. (I'm looking your way, Netherlands.) Even the aforementioned Mr. Stanley just slapped a maple leaf on the Royal Military College flag. You can't really be better at that than anyone else. Or at least, you can't be so much better that you end up getting all the big flag contracts from around the world. Oh yes, we must get Znamierowski to design our flag, we couldn't possibly trust some guy off the street to slap three brightly-colored stripes together.

This brings back bad memories of when I was in university and looking for a career. I found that job search books had weird ideas of what occupations existed. I think the weirdest was a book that listed "programming language designer" as a job. Again, interesting thing to do, but really it's something a handful of people do once in their lives and that's it. Calling it a potential career is like recommending you pursue a career designing new sports. And yet, Mr. Znamierowski somehow did that.

So: 

• Job type that lots of geeks would love 
• Requires skills that a lot of people have
• Very few openings in the world 
• Somehow, one guy gets most of the plum assignments. 

It's just like how JJ Abrams got to run the Star Trek and Star Wars movie franchises at the same time. 

Anyway, the point is, this is a great tragedy of our time: there are many fun and interesting things to do in this world, yet those jobs aren't well distributed, and they so often just go to the last guy who did a similar job, even if he was mediocre at it. The rest of us are stuck doing it in our imaginations only.

Anyway, here’s my proposed new Ontario flag

All The Moves That Fit To Sprint

There’s an intersection I frequently drive through where the line of cars stopped at a red light often stretches past the exit to a busy gas station. That means that I sometimes find myself stopped near the gas station’s exit, and have to make the decision of whether to let someone out in front of me. Generally, I try to be nice, and let someone out, but sometimes I’m stopped across the exit, and it’s not clear if there’s enough room, so I just move ahead and let the driver behind me decide whether or not to be a Good Samaritan.

Yesterday, I was in just such a position. I had come to a stop at the light with my car pretty much blocking the exit, so I couldn’t have let anyone out. Except, the driver coming out of the gas station was on a motorbike. And he didn’t even wait for my permission, he just drove out into the space I’d left in front of me, which was enough for the bike.

At first, I was kind of annoyed. How dare you take this space, which I think sort of symbolically belongs to me. But at the same time, I had to admire the audacity. And I have to admit, it didn’t cause me any inconvenience at all: He was just taking up room that would have been left empty anyway. Okay, the reason I leave a car length between me and the car ahead is in case I have to move forward to avoid being rear-ended. But as long as he’s okay with getting pancaked between us in that unlikely event, then I guess he’s welcome to the space.

Years ago, I noted that motorbikes have the potential to be what sports cars wish they were, but usually aren’t: a way of going faster on modern roads. Usually, that just manifests itself as going way over the speed limit, but I was envisioning someone going at the speed limit, in spite of traffic, by taking advantage of your ability to fit into the smaller spaces other vehicles can’t get into. And that’s kind of what he was doing, albeit in a mundane manner. I wonder if you can take this even further, with a vehicle that gives up some of a motorbike's straight-line speed for even more maneuverability. A motor-unicycle would do it, but wouldn't be worth the dorkiness. I mean, you have to keep in mind the real possibility that this device will be mentioned in your obituary. 

Maybe a higher powered motorized skateboard. Or - I hate to suggest this - those things they call hoverboards. Okay, I see the etymologists have struck back, and are insisting on calling them self-balancing scooters. with the Oxford English Dictionary saying that "hoverboard" refers to "boards that Marty McFly would recognize." I love those guys!

Now that we have that out of the way, I feel less guilty about suggesting them as the extreme vehicle of the future. Well, less guilty linguistically; I guess the inevitable casualties are still bad. Anyway, I'm thinking: give one of them, say fifty horsepower, and you could just fly around traffic. Around, past, and — with a bit of practice — over. I look forward to cursing maniacs on self-balancing scooters.

Back With Another One Of Those Blog-Rockin’ Beats

I've complained more than once about the song "It's Your Thing" by the Isley Brothers being used in commercials. Specifically, that it's been used in commercials for a variety of different products, with each company seemingly oblivious to the fact that it's already been associated with a different brand.

So, imagine if I'd been asked, "What do you think will be the next song to get overused in commercials for multiple brands at the same time? Hint: it's from another group with 'Brothers' in the name."

I would have said, oh, no, not "Unchained Melody!" That's such a classic song that so many people love. It would be such a shame if it became associated with dog food and denture cleaners

But no, it's "Galvanize," by the Chemical Brothers.

It started with a series of Michelin ads, which used the song for its distinctive "dun dun dun" part. That got it recognized enough that stadium DJs started playing it at sporting events. I thought that was a weird enough path for a song to go through pop culture: being revived by a commercial almost twenty years after it was released and getting attention beyond what it originally got. So I thought about remarking on it, but never got around to it.

But then, I hear it again on a Hummer ad. They're using the "Push the button" part to advertise their four-wheel steering. That's a different part of the song, so people may not even realise it's the same song. I suppose that's a way around the problem of over-using songs in ads: each company uses a different part of the song. Maybe that will even have a positive effect on music: You’ll put more effort into the complexity of your songs if you know you can sell different parts to different companies.

Oddly, we still haven’t seen the most obvious use; the song is, after all, named after an industrial process. It just seems natural that eventually we'll hear, "Ziebart reminds you..." (start music) "The time has come to…Galvanize!" (cut music quickly, because Michelin owns the dun dun dun part.)

But I'm also thinking about the demographic implications of this. It was all fun and games when it was another generation's songs getting overused. I could feel cheapened, but I'm trying to look on the bright side: We won the demographic competition (where "we" refers to late Gen-X, early Millennials, or in my case, Mid-Xer who stayed in university too long and thinks he's a borderline Xer-Millennial.) And now our music is being used to sell expensive stuff like high-end tires and SUVs. Yes, I realize it's a fleeting title, since it's only a matter of time before the next music takes over. But we could get a bit of an extension while advertisers struggle to make ads out of emo.

Bravo, Encore

Right now, we're seeing ads gleefully telling us that “Bravo is coming to Canada!” Many of us, will then say, “I thought Bravo was already in Canada.” I remember it starting up with a wave of new specialty channels in the nineties.

The explanation is that the original Canadian Bravo that started in the nineties was based on the American Bravo, but with mostly local programming. Each network evolved in its own way in the intervening decades, with the Canadian Bravo eventually rebranded into CTV Drama. This Bravo being advertised now is a new channel, based on the American Bravo as it now exists.

So this is also a good opportunity to observe how cable channels change over time. When the previous Bravo started, it had highbrow content (okay, upper-mid-brow) and targetted as sophisticated audience as TV dares to court. It got a bit watered-down in turning to dramatic series, but in an age of Prestige TV, that didn’t mean much of a shift. That was still my mental picture of Bravo, so imagine my surprise when they attempt to relaunch with ads that are just montages of the trashiest of trashy reality shows. But that’s what Bravo is known for today. So now it all makes sense. In as much as a cable channel starting with the most sophisticated programming and ending up with the most dumbed-down crap available makes any sense.

And that concept turns out to have a name, at least according to Wikipedia. It’s called channel drift. And their article on the concept makes for depressing reading. It’s just one story after another of channels that moved to something less intelligent in search of a big audience. I mean, with so many cable channels, you’d think that there would be a few cases where they moved to programming that was a little smarter. I’m not asking for much, just a channel that switched from live police chases to Law and Order reruns. But no, all of their examples were dumbing down. The closest thing to an intellectual win were some of the failed drifts, like the mass revolt that followed the American Weather Channel’s attempt at showing movies. I suppose you could argue that HBO and AMC became more sophisticated over the years, going from mainstream movies to award-winning TV series, but they seem to have eaten up whatever intellectual demand television has, and there’s nothing left for anyone else.

So it’s time for us in Canada to pay tribute to Moses Znaimer, long-time leader of Toronto’s CityTV, and its stable of cable channels, such as the original Bravo Canada. Yes, their output could be annoying for their look-how-hip-we-are attitude, but at least they had an idea what they wanted to be and delivered that, instead of sacrificing everything to the lowest common denominator. It’s too bad that City was one of the losers in Canada’s media amalgamation Armageddon. Now we’re stuck with no-personality CTV dominating the media landscape instead, and Znaimer is trying to build a new media empire around seniors. But he was a bit unlucky in choosing the name ZoomerMedia, so now he’s struggling to convince people that “Zoomer” is a cool Boomer, not an alternate name for Gen-Z.

Things The Teenage Me Would Never Have Believed About Life In The Future, #47

In a bank, you will no longer confirm a transaction by signing a paper on the dotted line. Instead, you’ll sign on a touch-sensitive computer screen, using an electronic virtual pen. The screen detects the pen’s movement, instantly displaying the signature in high resolution, indistinguishable from ink. The image of your signature will then be recorded on the bank’s computer system, where it can be retrieved and compared with your signature at any of their branches, from anywhere on earth. The pen will still have a chain attached.

May I Label These Envelopes Please

Did you know that there’s only three days in the year that North America’s “Big 4” team sports do not have any games? Okay, probably, because we’ve just had them: they’re the tree days around Baseball’s All-Star Game. In recent years, ESPN used this break as an opportunity to have their annual award show, the Espys. But for some reason, they had it a few days early this year, so I was unprepared to publish another instalment of suggested awards. Previous suggestions are here from 2014 and here from 2015.

Baseball

• Most creative way to point out a no hitter without actually mentioning it
• Least embarrassing ceremonial first pitch
• Least confusing score bug
• Most nonchalant front row spectator
• Most sweat-stained cap
• Most elaborate hairstyle hidden under a cap
• Most gratuitous old-time ballpark feature in a new stadium
• Best performance by a player asking the dugout to request a review

Football

• Best performance by a player introducing himself and his college
• Most innocent-sounding explanation for not signing Colin Kaepernick
• Most gratuitous use of cable cam
• Best performance by a coach angrily taking off his headset after a bad play

Basketball

• Best performance by a fan in the front row berating a player without provoking a fight
• Most subtle way for a commentator to question officials' competence
• Best wood floor pattern

Hockey

• Best performance by a league official pretending to care about concussions
• Most consecutive questions asked of John Tortorella without him losing it
• Most dramatic announcement of a goal-review result
• Most gratuitous pre-game ceremony (separate divisions for original-six and expansion teams)
• Best special effects in an animated virtual board ad

Soccer

• Most miraculous use of the magic spray
• Best performance by players wasting time taking a corner, throw-in etc.
• Best performance by in-studio analysts hyping a relegation game
• MLS fan group that looks most like it could win a riot against European fans
• Best interpretive dance moves while running up to a penalty

Tennis

• Best attempt to have a McEnroe-style tantrum despite the existence of review technology
• Best performance by a player packing up their bag and leaving after a loss
• Subtlest grunting

General

• Most money conned out of local government for a new stadium
• Least-awkward in-stadium marriage proposal
• The Ref-Cam Award for best dumb-sounding idea
• Highest office job given to a retired player with no experience
• Roughest play at an All Star game
• The Broken Clock Award for best prediction by a loud mouth debater. 
• Fastest performance of The Star-Spangled Banner
• Saddest story of a veteran dealt away from a championship team as part of a deadline deal
• Most realistic superimposed ad
• Most compassionate "oooh" by a crowd watching an injury in slow motion on the jumbotron
• The St. Joseph’s Cancer Center Award for strangest thing advertised on a sports broadcast
• The Eric Lindros Award for highest expectations placed on a prospect who hasn’t played in the big leagues yet.

20,000 Leagues All Over Me

In many ways, I reject traditional masculinity, but in other ways I embrace it. One obvious way is sports. I counted it up, and I now have items of clothing to indicate my team of choice in no less than seven different sports leagues. (MLB, NBA, NHL, CFL, NFL, MLS, and the latest addition, the National Lacrosse League.)

That's nearly all of my teams. Okay, there are some leagues where I have a favourite team based on something like a weird name. (Forced to choose a team among Indian Premier League cricket teams I'd go the Kolkata Knight Riders, but I can't pretend to be passionate about them.) Among teams I truly care about the only ones missing would be the family soccer teams, Aston Villa or Birmingham City. And I point that out not entirely as a gift idea for friends and family. 

But now I realize that this manifestation of my masculinity is about to get even more complicated. And ironically, it's because of the rise of women's sports. I jumped on the bandwagon of the Toronto PWHL team, but since they don't have a name yet, I have a reprieve before buying any merchandise. But as soon as they become the Toronto Narwhals or something, I'll be heading to the stores. And now Toronto is getting a WNBA franchise, so that will need another piece of clothing with their presumably non-plural name splashed across it. 

The fact is that we're entering into a more complex sports world. The days of just hockey in Canada and just baseball in the US are long gone. We've even moved beyond a Big-3 or Big-4 team sports. I'm wondering how that's going to change fandom in the future. Because at the same time, the ways of spending on your team has increased too; clothing is just one aspect of it. Above, I was just talking about cheap t-shirts and hats, but if you're going to go for the replica uniform route, you could be spending a thousand dollars on your full collection of teams, before we even get to the jackets, lamps, novelty home scoreboards, etc. And that's before we consider how much you might bet on your teams of choice. 

So I'm thinking that sports fandom could get watered down: The days of looking into the audience and seeing half the fans in the team uniform could be numbered. After all, it wasn't that long ago when such fans were a lot less common.  Maybe we'll return to those before-times of more casually-dressed spectators, and the current era of monochromatic crowds will seem like an awkwardly-obsessed outlier.

Or, we could see fans concentrating more on individual sports. Instead of just automatically maintaining fandom of all the teams from the local metropolis, fans may choose to specialize. That would be odd, because now we just assume that teams from different sports in one town are kind of allies, since their fans are mostly the same people. But if they have to fight to be the object of local fans' obsessions, that could get ugly. You think it's hard to back a team between Lakers-Celtics or Dodgers-Giants, how about when it's Dodgers-Lakers? Rich teams fighting over entitled fans? That's no fun. I'd be willing to keep buying sports merchandise just to keep that from happening.

The Secret Life Of The Centre Square

 It's kind of depressing how fandom can come and go. I mean, there logically will be a last person alive who still misses Automan, what if it's me? That's why I find it reassuring whenever I see evidence of an old fandom. So if I come across Greatest American Hero fan fiction, I rejoice (but don't read it) because I'm glad to see passion for an older media franchise. And genuine passion too, not just someone name-dropping it to sound eclectic like I just did.

So recently, when I saw a personalized license plate that read "Zsa Zsa G," I found it reassuring. I was never a fan of the actress, Zsa Zsa Gabor, but I'm glad that there's still someone around who misses her. So much so that I'm not going to do the math on the likelihood that it really is a Zsa Zsa Gabor fan, vs just someone named Zsa Zsa G. I don't think there's a big Hungarian community in town, so I'll just go with my initial assumption.

By the way, it's as good a time as any to revisit those 70s-80s pseudo-celebrities. It might seem weird to current generations, but there was a certain type of D-list celebrity that hung around on game shows or did guest spots on sitcoms, or appeared on a talk show in need of a human punchline. Today, we often talk about someone who's "famous for being famous," but that just means they are famous for reality TV or social media. But back then, these people just kept showing up on our TV and we weren't always sure why. 

Of course, those were real people, and in the modern day, we've learned more about them. It’s sort of like  when Dolly Parton was only known for her bustline, and Betty White was just another frequent TV star. It'd be quite a tragedy if society had never seen beyond that. Well, I’ve since learned that Charo was actually quite a good guitarist. Fannie Flagg wrote Fried Green Tomatoes. JM J Bullock lived with HIV for much of his career and co-hosted a talk show with Tammy Faye Bakker. Which reminds me:

Things Teenage Me Would Never Have Believed About Life In The Future, #46:

An actress will win the Best Actor Oscar playing Tammy Faye Bakker.

Anyway, it’s unfortunate timing for that generation of borderline celebrities. Today’s media landscape is just built for such people: Then, they had to make do with guest appearances, but today they’d have reality shows, Hallmark movies, and so many social media followers.

Things The Teenage Me Would Have Found All Too Believable About Life In The Future

There’s a service where a small business can get a name and logo made for them by Artificial Intelligence. Such uses of A.I. in creative industries is quite controversial. And yet, a TV commercial for this service sidesteps the controversy, and instead shows a young proprietor of a small business explaining the concept to her older business partner. The partner exclaims, “A-I-Like-It!”

Get The Parity Started

It’s amazing how the colour of a product makes such a difference in price. In our world where there’s often not much differentiating one product from another, the colour can make all the difference. Of course, I’m going to use examples from cars and technology, but you can find examples everywhere.

That’s the reason why cars have taken a turn for the gray in recent decades. It’s affected by what car buyers desire in their own cars, but also their concern for resale value. So they’ll prefer an inoffensive gray car that they can easily flip a few years later, not the green one that might turn off other buyers. I suspect it’s also that car companies know people are very choosy, and colour won’t win them many sales unless it’s absolutely perfect, but an offensive colour will lose them many, so they stay neutral. Personally, I think that’s a shame; I like colours, but I’m not married to any in particular. So I’d like to have a nice colour for the sake of some colour in my life, even if it’s not my favourite. But I seem to be in the minority on that, so gray it is.

I’ve also seen the colours having an effect on prices in the technology business. I’ve been looking for an external hard drive, and Samsung makes their external drives in traditional black, but also in blue and red. I’ve noticed that one colour is sometimes on sale, but not the others. They’re identical other than the colours, so I’m assuming that when one falls behind in sales, some algorithm somewhere decides it’s time for a discount. It’s hard to believe that colour can have that kind of effect on the purchase of something few others are going to see, but apparently it does.

But then I went looking for a game controller. They’re traditionally gray or black, but often available in other colours. So after my experience with the hard drives, I wasn’t surprised to find that the red XBox controller was five dollars less than the original black. I was set to order it and congratulate myself on my colourful frugality, but then I saw it: A pink controller, for fifteen dollars less than the original.

That’s ironic, because of this concept called, the “Pink Tax.” That’s the phenomenon where products aimed at women are more expensive than similar products aimed at men, even though they hardly differ. Often, the only difference is that they’re pink, hence the name. They aren’t really more expensive because they’re pink. After all, pink paint and dye is not particularly expensive. Instead, it’s factors like how much consumers want and need products. I’m assuming that because women are under more pressure to look good, their hygiene products are more expensive because of higher demand.

So in other contexts, pink might cost more, but the roles have been reversed here. You might be surprised to see them even trying to sell something pink in the world of video games, but let me remind you: 

1. Surveys show female gamers are now close to 50% of the market.
2. We are just coming out of The Year Of Barbie. 

Having said that, it appears things weren’t working out the way Microsoft marketing wanted, and the pink controllers were deeply discounted. I don’t know, maybe the Barbie-gaming crossover wasn’t as much as they’d hoped. But I suspect the real reason is that female gamers may choose the black or the pink, while the males will only buy the black.

(And if you’re wondering, I only saw one colour that was more expensive than the original black controller: a dark purple. Purple seems to be having a moment right now.)

For me, even when I put aside traditional symbols of masculinity, pink is not one of my favourite colours. I don’t mind it, as long as it’s taken in reasonable quantities. You know, less than the Barbie-aisle-at-Toys-R-Us levels. And whatever need I have to reaffirm my masculinity is tiny compared to my desire not to over-spend on electronics, so: I ordered the pink controller.

It’s not much of a consolation for high-priced women’s products, but there are times when the Pink Tax turns into, let’s say, the Pink Subsidy. And I’m pleased to be gaming with both confidence in my masculinity, and an extra fifteen dollars in my pocket.

Things The Teenage Me Would Never Have Believed About Life In The Future, #45

 You’ll read this headline and understand it:

Welcome Back, Victoria

This is Victoria Day weekend. I'm not sure how to explain this to non-Canadians. Obviously, it's a day celebrating Queen Victoria, who was the British monarch at the time of Confederation. As a few modern Canadians have pointed out, Nineteenth-Century Canadians had an unhealthy obsession with her, as you can see from the sheer number of places in Canada that have a Victoria Park. Or, just look at this inscription on a statue of her in a Victoria park near my home.

Suddenly the adoration of Elizabeth II seems tame by comparison. So it's not too surprising that those folks wanted to celebrate her with a major holiday. 

But now, Victoriamania has worn off, so we're left with a holiday with no meaning behind it. It's kind of appropriate that we often refer to it as the Two Four weekend as a wink to the amount of beer that each person consumes, and which has become the true focus of the weekend. 

Anyway, aside from beer and lapsed monarchism, the weekend is also known for fireworks. And it's a chance for me to reflect on the changing place of fireworks in our society. 

When I was a child, there were official, professional fireworks displays for major holidays, but personal fireworks were banned. Of course, that changed, and pop-up fireworks stores became a feature of summer long weekends. But now many cities are banning personal fireworks within the city limits. So I've now seen an entire cycle of changing legislative attitude. It goes like this:

• Start with a ban that seemed a little pedantic
• Ban is lifted, is a seemingly sensible move
• There's a brief interlude of reasonable use of fireworks
• One group of people realizes that there's nothing stopping them from going overboard, and another group of people realizes there's a lot of money to be made selling to that first group of people. 
• People get tired of hearing fireworks each night of the week leading up to a holiday
• Cities start banning fireworks.

Presumably this will be followed by a slow shift to enforce the ban. And then it's right back to square one. I'm kind of curious how long it will take to forget the reason for the ban and legalize fireworks again. I suddenly have sympathy for the banned and legalized things over the years. Next time you’re wondering what the Prohibitionists were thinking, just remember fireworks.

My Little Underground

It’s weird how different cities take such different approaches to transit. I recently came across the fact that my family’s hometown of Birmingham, England, is the largest city in Europe without a subway. On the other hand, my current home of Kitchener-Waterloo’s light rail system makes it the smallest city in North America with any sort of rail transit system. And some Scandinavian cities have more of a commitment to transit: Oslo has more subway stations than Toronto, despite being only about a quarter the size.

So I was curious about what city has the most subway stations per capita in the world. I Googled it, and discovered there are all kinds of complications to the question: How do you define where a city ends? What part is served by the transit system? What if the subway also runs into neighbouring communities? But then I found that none of that matters, because there’s a clear winner: Serfaus, Austria. It has a subway system with four stations, serving a town of 1000 people. 

Okay, you've probably already guessed there has to be more to it than that, and indeed there is: Serfaus is a ski resort, so it often has far more than the local population to move around. And it's not a full sized subway: more like a “people mover” you might see at an airport. Interestingly, it doesn't even have wheels; it floats on compressed air. And it pulls itself along by a cord, like a cable car. Which is fitting for a ski resort.

The idea is to get people from the parking lot at one end of town to the base of the ski hills at the other end. That allows them to maintain a car-free community, which is nice for that little mountain retreat ambiance. Though as one tourist page points out, it does mean that a lot of visitors miss out on most of the village entirely.

So, Serfaus being a ski resort means that their money and transit needs are far beyond that of a normal thousand-person town. But on the other hand, it’s not like they get a million people at a time show up to ski: it’s still a pretty bold choice given the number of people they’re moving around. This has me wondering what other formats a town can take on. For instance, could there be some universe where my hometown of Woodstock (population, 46,000) has such a system? Maybe: I also came across Aubagne, France which is approximately the same size, and has a light rail system. Though it should be noted, it’s on the outskirts of Marsaille, so it’s not totally analogous. But having said that, it’s hard to imagine a satellite community here being so concerned with public transit.

And that brings up the problem that sinks many urban planning solutions imported from Europe to North America: we have cities built around the car. You probably could have a city of that size built around public transit, but it would have to be a really densely-populated place to have everyone in range of a small transit system. It would be very expensive in the suburban wonderlands that most small towns in Canada are. Trying to imagine a densely-populated small-to-midsize city is about as hard as visualizing a village with a subway.

Somebody To Shove

I've been watching the new Professional Women's Hockey League, and it's been pretty fun. Fans have really embraced it, and given games a lot of energy. and atmosphere that comes through even on TV.

One thing that's changed since previous women's hockey is an increase in physicality. Women's hockey has generally avoided it in the past; most women's hockey bans bodychecking, and the marquee events have been international tournaments that are more likely to crack down on physical confrontations outside of the game itself.

But the PWHL has been far more permissive of things, both during and after the play. This has generally been welcomed by announcers and journalists.

I'm less enthusiastic about it: granted, I'm not a fan of hockey fights, but I can understand what people see in it. After all, fighting has been made into a number of other sports, from boxing to mixed-martial arts. So — putting aside any moral considerations for the moment — there's clearly an appetite for it. And hockey's lax rule enforcement is just asking for vigilante justice. Having said that, I've noticed that many fights come down to one of three motivations, each of which makes the fight seem irrelevant: 

• Enforcers fighting each other, not because of any beef between them or their teams, but just to justify their employment. 
• Interminable fights at the end of a blowout, as the losing team tries to "send a message," not realizing the message is, "look everyone, we just got out ass kicked."
• Revenge for a hard play that was totally legal, but pissed the team off.

Of course, the classic provocation for fighting is revenge for a cheap shot. Personally, I'd rather have a sport where the rules were enforced, but if that's not going to happen, then I can certainly understand why players often take the law into their own gloveless hands.

But hockey's anarchic nature has created one offshoot that I truly don't get: the pushing and shoving that follows so many stoppages in play. It really slows the game down, while providing little entertainment value. 

For one thing, watching people push each other is not very exciting. Fighting may have been turned into several sports, but you notice how there is no sport of pushing and shoving? Well, there's a reason for that: there isn't much pay-per-view money in the Ultimate Shoving Challenge.

But the other, even worse aspect is that the shoving is so artificial; fighting as revenge for a dirty play is at least connected of the game. But the shoving is meaningless playground-level tactics: players hit after the whistle to provoke the opposition, or accidentally-on-purpose bump into each other to start something. It's as believable as a Three Stooges routine, but treated with deadly seriousness. I got more than my fill of that on the playground back in the day.

Yet I seem to be in the minority on this one. Lots of people in the hockey world can't get enough of those post-whistle scrums. I think they see them as a substitute for the fighting which has become a rarer part of the game. But you’d think that given how important fighting is to hockey culture, and that these shoving matches are a pale imitation of fights, that they’d be seen as a wimpy, half-hearted substitute. But no, hockey culture embraces the shoving and the elementary school posturing that comes with it.

Which brings us back to the PWHL. We haven’t seen actual fights there, as the full-face masks will strongly discourage that sort of thing. But there's a great amount of the post-play shoving. Commentators tend to like this and get really excited. I can’t always tell if this is genuine enthusiasm for the scrum itself, or just the superficial assumption that this makes it more like the men's game, so it must be a good thing.

But to me, it’s a worst-of-both-worlds situation. Of all the physical aspects of the men’s game, they’ve imported the least entertaining.

Trans Ontario Express

As I've mentioned, there are an astonishing number of topics for video games these days. want to be a goose, a bird on a tiny skateboard, or Eastern European border agent? There's a game for each. (And, no, I haven’t bought all those. Well, I’ve only bought two of them.)

And there are plenty of games stimulating actual jobs. For instance, there's a few truck driving simulations. Many would consider that dull, but enough people find it fun, relaxing, or challenging that it's become a genre of games.

There's also a genre of train driving simulators, where you can control a train, from your choice of various types of trains, various eras, and different locations around the world. Though the games about building the trains and running the railway are more popular, so that tells you something about the world.

I was reminded of this recently when I saw the latest selection from Humble Bundle. It's a non-profit that raises money for charity by selling bundles of older video games, software and e-books cheaply. Recently, one of their bundles was a collection of train simulators.

It also came with expansion packs that allowed you to add trains and locations from around the world. One of those caught my eye.

Yes, you can drive a Canadian National freight train from Oakville to Hamilton.

Of course, that struck me as odd. I assumed that if you wanted to drive a train, it would be one of the legendary trains of the world: the Orient Express, the Shinkansen (Bullet Train), or the Trans-Siberian Railroad. If you were going to choose a Canadian train, the Rocky Mountaineer would be the obvious choice, though you might also go with a line through Northern Ontario or Quebec, or into the far north. Or, if you wanted urban rail, you could go through a major city — hey, approaching Union Station in Toronto from the West, you go straight past the CN Tower and The Dome.

But no, they went with Oakville. It’s a chance to guide a freight train, slowly, through Canadian suburbs. Though you do get to pilot one of CN’s freight engines, which are kind of iconic in Canada. Though they’re iconic in the way a Coca-Cola bottle is iconic: so common, you barely even see them anymore. And that further contributes to the banal feeling. You’re doing a job that’s around you all the time. It would be like a taxi simulator. Oh, wait, they have those too.

Having said all this, I can kind of understand it. On the one hand, in our globalized world, what is mundane to some is exotic to others. I mean, I mentioned how the Shinkansen sounds exciting to me. But to a Japanese salaryman, it’s just a way to get to work. On the other hand, there’s something to be said for exploring your own world, but from perspective you’ve never seen. I have to admit that when I watched the preview video for the Oakville expansion, I was intrigued by the part where they show the perspective of entering the cab. Like most Canadians, I’ve seen about a million of those CN locomotives, but I don’t even know what the interior looks like.

So if this strikes your fancy, don’t listen to me condemning your fantasy. Have fun with what you enjoy, and don’t listen to the nay-sayers. That’s what’s great about modern video games: there’s something for everyone. After all, you’re living the wildest dreams of some kid in the 1950’s watching his Lionel trains go round and round.

Wax To The Future

A few weeks ago, I was driving along when a car pulled out of a gas station in front of me. Normally, I wouldn't give such a thing a second thought, unless it pulled out right in front and was dangerous. This wasn't dangerous, but it was just annoying enough that I gave the car a second thought. In that second thought, I realized it was a Chevy Bolt, which is an electric car. Why would it have been in a gas station?

As I got closer, I could see the reason: it was covered in beads of water, despite this being a clear winter's day, and it was very clean, despite this being a Canadian winter. Evidently, it had been in the gas station's car wash.

I hadn't really thought of that before, but electric cars need washes too. Well, I'm sure Tesla is working on a system to remotely clean cars - maybe with a team of drones - but until then, it's car washes for everyone.

That must be really awkward:  To you, gas stations are fading monuments to carbon dominance, which you’re free to ignore. But now and then, you pull up at this archaic institution. No, you don't want to use this business's main purpose, you've moved beyond that. And while most customers silently use the pay-at-the-pump feature, you have to go inside and confront the employees. Tell them, no, I don't need gas; I'm one of the ones who will be the death of your industry. But before that, can you make my car shiny for me?

It's made odder by the way gas station car washes have a kind of retro-futuristic feel to them. With their many moving parts, these pseudo-robotic servants pamper your car while you wait. It's the Jetsons future Boomers imagined. Just like jetpacks and flying cars, but with way less casualties.

Drop one of your lithium-ion transit appliances in the middle of that fifties future, and it's a real anachronism. Like a Buck Rogers Subreddit, it's the future we imagined confronting the future we ended up with. And — don't tell the Boomers — but our future seems pretty dull in comparison. The inevitable jetpack accidents almost seem worth it.

Truck To The Future

Several years ago, when Tesla first publicly introduced their Cybertruck  to the world, I wrote a post about it, but never got around to, you know, posting it. At the time (2019) the Cybertruck was slated for production starting in 2021. But here we are in 2024, and they're only now, slowly, making it to the road. 

I'm writing this, not because they're on the road, but because I'm seeing people's pictures and videos of the one recently on display at the Auto Show in Toronto. Although I see lots of Tesla's other models here in KW, I'm yet to see a Cybertruck. Even my phone's autocomplete is unfamiliar with Cybertruck. It just suggested "Cybertronian" instead, which I assume is the name of someone from the Transformers' home planet of Cybertron. 

Anyway, since the post is still relevant five years later, I thought I'd show it to you:

Tesla introduced its new truck this week, and it’s controversial. I mean, Elon Musk bragged that the windows are indestructible, then shattered them demonstrating their indestructibility. And yet, no one is talking about that. Perhaps more amazingly, I haven’t even heard anyone point out what a dumb name “Cybertruck” is.

Instead, they are talking about the impossibly angular style of the truck. People are struggling for ways to describe it.

When I first saw a picture on line, I thought, “Cybertruck?” Wasn’t that what Tesla was threatening to call their new truck?” (Sees truck) “Nah, this must be some poorly-thought out GM publicity stunt to make the truck of the future.

It looks a bit like that Robosaurus that they took to monster truck rallies in the nineties. (Fun fact, I thought it was called “Truckasaurus,” but a little research shows that was the name of The Simpsons’ parody of Robosaurus.)

Oh wait, that really is the Tesla Truck?

My next reaction was the same as a lot of people: it looks like a futuristic vehicle from a second-rate science fiction movie. It’s like, we don’t have an art department, and there isn’t much money, so we’ll just bend some shiny metal then put it over the chassis from a used Taurus wagon, and that will be bad guy’s car in RoboCop 6.

Or another possibility is that this a car from a 90’s video game. “We need to make a car, but we can only spare six polygons.”

There's plenty of other jokey speculation about how it came about. But I think the explanation that is closest to reality is something like:

Designer: Here are some concept sketches for the new truck project.

Elon Musk, pointing: That one! I love it!

Designer: Good, well, I’d like to do some refinement of the...

Musk: No! Put it into production now!

To me it really does look like the first draft of a great design. Every time I look at it, it seems a little more normal. Though it started so far from normal that it still has a long way to go. The big stumbling point is the — I can’t believe I’m saying this about a vehicle — peak of the roof. You just can’t look away from it; not only is it so out of the ordinary, but the main lines of the shape point right at it.

I can think of a few ways to fix it, which we may see before it reaches production:

• Move it a little forward, so that it’s where the top of the windshield would be on a normal vehicle. That way it will look a little more normal. It may compromise rear-seat headroom, but you could cheat by making the roof slightly rounded.
• Move it backward so that it’s over the B-pillar (the rear edge of the front doors)
• Round it off. I know, that would mean compromising the design concept, but I figure that’s better than having something so distracting in the middle of the design.

I think you could save the design, because I see the logic behind it. Tesla’s previous offerings have all been sleek and distinctive without being too revolutionary. That attracts people who want a futuristic car, but without scaring off people who might be uneasy about moving to electric cars.

But with trucks, they have the problem that they’ll never really be accepted in conservative truck culture, so the solution is to avoid even trying to fit in. The Cybertruck looks like something else entirely, and as a bonus, it is even more hyper masculine than existing trucks.

Another comparison I saw online was to that car that Homer Simpson designed for his brother’s car company. That car didn’t look anything like the Cybertruck, but the way the introduction fell with a thud was so similar. However, a car that did have a lot in common with Homer’s car was the other big automotive debut of the week, Ford’s Mustang Mach-E.

It doesn’t look like “The Homer” either. But it is a similar mishmash of concepts and whims that has people saying, “Huh?” Specifically, it’s a high-performance SUV...but electric...that’s called a Mustang...that’s not based on the Mustang. Okay, there is a market for high-performance SUV’s since they sell BMW M and Mercedes AMG SUVs. But still, is there anyone out there who values the Mustang name, wants an SUV, and wants an electric vehicle?

It looks like Ford, in a desperate bid to make its new direction seem cool, combined everything in its future into one car. We only make trucks, SUV’s, and the Mustang now, so we’ll try to make a Mustang-branded SUV. And we’re behind on electric technology, so we’ll make it electric too.

Looking back, it was probably a bad sign that I had to invoke The Simpsons twice in describing it.

Of course, the funny part is that the Mustang Mach E has now been on the road for a few years, which underlines just how late the Cybertruck is. You might be inclined to cut Tesla some slack because of the pandemic, but the fact is that other manufacturers got products out the door much faster. The idea of an electric truck sounded shocking at the time of the Cybertruck’s introduction, but now you can buy them from Ford, GM, and Rivian. It's that lack of speed, rather than their wild designs, that worries me most about their future

As for my feelings on its design, I have a much higher opinion of it than most people, not that that's saying much. I at least think it’s redeemable with some refinement. And as I said in this post, it still looks more normal over time. Though I find that now that I’m seeing pictures of it from a wider variety of angles, I keep seeing weird aspects that didn’t show up before. Like, from some angles, the hood looks kind of stubby. So I’ll give it a bit more time to grow on me. After all, what’s a few more years?

Game Stop

In video games, there’s this concept called the “rage quit.” That’s when a player ends the game early in a fit of anger. Often, it’s referring to an online game, where a player quits in a moment of emotion, and is seen as bad sportsmanship. But it can also refer to quitting a single-player game in a fit of frustration, often to never return.

I think “rage quit” is a very useful phrase, because it’s a phenomenon we’ve all experienced, even if we’ve never played video games. I hope it gets broadened to use in all facets of life. Plenty of people rage quit jobs, but you can also use it in less-dramatic circumstances. You can talk about how you tried to learn piano, but rage quit while practicing the B-minor scale.

But back to gaming. Sometimes, I would rage quit online StarCraft games back in my university days (“Damnit, we agreed, no grunt rushes!”) And more recently, single-player games that mistook frustration for challenge (hello, Mirror’s Edge.) But it seems to me that there’s another type of game-quitting that needs a name. This would be something like “Apathy Quit.” You aren't angry, you've just run out of enthusiasm. maybe you don't even make a conscious choice to stop playing; you just don’t come back to a game. Actually, “apathy” isn’t the right word, because it implies that you don’t care about the game. Sometimes I don’t come back to a game that I do care about. I’ve just kind of, had enough.

For instance, I “had-enough quit” Hollow Knight. That might be a surprise, since it’s a widely-beloved indie game. And indeed, I loved playing it, and have no regrets about buying it. But, having explored pretty much everything in the game, the only thing left was to defeat the last few bosses, but that would mean hours of bashing my head against the wall, failing again and again, and I just didn’t have the enthusiasm for it. So I just stopped playing.

Another game I didn’t come back to was Mass Effect: Andromeda. I mentioned being a fan of the Mass Effect series before, And I’m enough of a fan that I was willing to slog through the much-unloved fourth instalment in the series. Indeed, it has all the flaws people have complained about: terrible animation, an awkward user interface, and a general whiff of budget cuts. But I found it had enough of what made the original trilogy successful that it was still enjoyable despite its flaws. So I played most of the way through it, and then…stopped.

That was particularly odd, because it was right around the start of the Covid lockdowns, when escape into another world would be a welcome thing. But I had — once again — had enough. Another complaint about Andromeda was that its length was padded-out by repetitiveness rather than genuinely new story, and I think that added to the feeling of apathy.

So, why this walk down Gaming Apathy Boulevard? Well, I don’t have a big hard drive, and I have these unfinished games just sitting there, taking up space, so I decided to go back and try to finish them. Hollow Knight looks like it will be a tough task to beat the last bosses, so I may leave it unfinished. But Andromeda is close enough to the shooter template that I feel like I can finish up the last few side-quests, then bumble through the final battle with the Kett or the Revenant or Angora or whoever the bad guys were.

What have I learned from the experience?

• This is the closest I'm going to come to the trope of the thief/detective/superhero coming out of retirement for one last job. Everything around me seems familiar, but I'm still a step slow, and feeling unprepared, and just generally feeling “too old for this shit.”
• Games are complicated. You don’t realize while playing them normally, because they’ve purposely dropped new concepts on you one-at-a-time, slowly adding to your knowledge of the various systems and tools available to you. But coming back and playing mostly-complete games is tough because you’ve already reached maximum complexity, and now there’s nothing here to remind you how it all works.
• It’s weird that no time has passed in the game. Other characters are referring to things that just happened within the game, but I don’t remember them, because they were four years ago. Maybe in the future, games will be so sophisticated that they’ll notice when you’ve been away for a while and update you appropriately, reintroducing you to characters and reminding you what’s been going on. But until then, I’m a reverse Rip Van Winkle.
• It’s sort of like riding a bicycle. I didn’t go straight back to feeling completely comfortable, but it didn’t take long. Of course, it helps that these games are just variations on popular themes, so using the controls is just a matter of remembering which buttons do what. 
• Come to think of it, it’s been a while since I rode a bicycle, so I could test that old saying too.

Cuphead Deals With The Devils (Among Others)

With the All-Star break in hockey, I thought it would be a good time to look at a concept I'd wondered about. The history of hockey is kind of weird because there were so few teams for so long: We're told that certain teams are really great because of all the Stanley Cups they won, but many of those were in the original-six era, when you just had to beat five other teams. You would actually have better odds of winning a cup then, than you do of winning a division now.

So I devised a game to test the accumulated achievement of each franchise. Instead of counting how many cups each team has won, I counted how many teams they defeated to win their cups. In other words, each cup is worth points; specifically, one point for every other team in the league at the time. So a cup win in the original-six era is worth 5 points, while last year's win for Vegas was worth 31 points.

Here are the results (not counting non-NHL teams that won in the early years):

Rank	Team	Total Teams Defeated
1	Montreal Canadiens	231
2	Detroit Red Wings	147
3	Pittsburgh Penguins	128
4	Chicago Blackhawks	107
5	Edmonton Oilers	100
6	Tampa Bay Lightning	89
7	Colorado Avalanche	85
8	New Jersey Devils	81
9	New York Islanders	80
10	Boston Bruins	74
11	Toronto Maple Leafs	63
12	Los Angeles Kings	58
13	New York Rangers	48
14	Philadelphia Flyers	32
15	Vegas Golden Knights	31
16	St. Louis Blues	30
16	Washington Capitals	30
18	Anaheim Ducks	29
18	Carolina Hurricanes	29
20	Dallas Stars	26
21	Calgary Flames	20
23	Ottawa Senators (original)	14
24	Montreal Maroons	13

So what does this prove?

• The Habs still come out on top. While many of their wins were for just five, the sheer number of them, combined with their many cups in the seventies, gave them an easy win.
• The big beneficiaries were teams that won multiple cups post-1980 for twenty-odd points each. Pittsburgh and Edmonton were vaulted past most of the original-six teams, while Chicago has esteem they never used to have. That fits with how someone my age sees the league: the prestige of those franchises outweighs the prestige given to original-six teams merely for being old.
• Unsurprisingly, the big losers were the Maple Leafs. Only two of their cups scored more than five points, and they were from before the original-six era. Thus, they fell behind Tampa, Colorado, and New Jersey. Having said that, a single win now would push them past all those teams.
• The Rangers did better than you might expect. Yes, they've only won once in the past eighty years, but their three cups in the early years were before original-six, when there were more teams.

The Stylus Counsel

I have an iPad, and I've been interested in buying a stylus for it. (That’s the pen-like thing you can draw on the screen with.) Of course, Apple will gladly sell you one, but like most of their accessories, it's shockingly overpriced. I realize it has a lot of impressive technology, and it works quite well, but still, it is a pen that costs $130. Well, it doesn't even have ink, it really is just something to touch the screen with. So even worse, it's a stick that costs $130.

But I'm not going to rant about Apple products being overpriced; everyone knows about that. What I'm finding frustrating is trying to find a reasonably-priced alternative. 

I'm amazed at how bad people are at giving advice. it sounds simple: I’m looking for a cheaper alternative. Yes, I know that means compromising on features. I’m looking for a balance of features and price. That shouldn't be so complicated; it's what people have been doing for years.

But every comparison article just tells you that the Apple pen is the best. Really? The most expensive option is the best? Next you're going to tell me that the Bugatti Chiron is superior to a Kia Rio. And yes, I do understand everything in car analogies; after all, it did make this easier to understand the basic point that in more mature industries, we understand these concepts. But for some reason, the tech industry approaches the situation with the simplistic attitude of a five-year-old. 

You’d think there would be at least some discussion of whether the superior features are worth the extra money compared to buying a Chinese knockoff from Amazon. And I did find a lot of discussions in which people ask the seemingly-obvious question: What's a cheaper alternative to the Apple pencil. And so often the advice from other people is to buy the Apple pencil anyway, because it's worth it.

I think there's a couple of problems here. One is that there's very little understanding of financial realities. A lot of people can afford to spend a hundred dollars on a luxury, so it's not a big deal to spend that to get the best available option. But there are also a lot of people that can't spare a hundred dollars. If you're in that boat then telling you that it's the best option is not a real justification for buying the hundred-dollar stick, even if it is the best.

Also, I've noticed for a while now that techy people are really not good at giving advice on which products are best for others. Specifically, the problem is that they're bad at understanding another person's requirements and adjusting their priorities accordingly. They'll always recommend  the most sophisticated, powerful, configurable option, because that's what they would want. That's why your nerdy cousin convinced your tech-phobic aunt that Linux would be just perfect for her. I've seen the same pattern repeated over and over through the years and across different market segments. Just be glad they don't recommend buying a Koenigsegg Gemera because of the cool valve technology. Oh, there I go again.

Anyway, I did buy a much cheaper stylus from a company I hadn't heard of, after I did find some reviews that said it wouldn't be that bad, I guess. And so far, it seems to be the reasonable compromise I was looking for. But no, this doesn't mean I'm buying my next car from an anonymous online company.

It’s Time (Travel) For Tims

Tim Hortons is advertising retro donuts. That is, they're bringing back some of the old donut styles, for a limited time only.

On the one hand, that's nice. I miss dutchies too. On the other hand, this relates to a big part of why public opinion has turned against them in recent years: the selection is nowhere near what it used to be - it seems like every time you go in, there's one less thing on the menu. On the other hand, there will be some bizarre item that wasn’t there last time and won’t be there next time. These retro donuts are just the latest in the dizzying sequence of temporary specials.

I assume their strategy of recent years is to reduce the selection of available products to the bare minimum for efficiency's sake. They then compensate for the lack of variety by having the endless stream of temporary features. Hopefully you won't notice the jelly Timbits are gone if you're distracted by the new Chili Lasagne Bowls. But now the irony is that they're distracting us from the poor selection with the old selection.

I can understand why a company would want to restore some of what customers used to like about them. But being a temporary feature, it feels like a bit of a tease. “Hey remember how great it was when we had a wide variety of products? And you used to like us, not just tolerate us? That was pretty nice. Anyway, time's up! Next month’s feature is Chipotle Omelette Balls. Enjoy!”

I'm trying to imagine which other Canadian companies could restore what people used to like about them. Hudson Bay has already been having occasional pop-up Zellers stores, which is a similarly odd strategy of acknowledging what people used to like about the company, but without actually committing to it. I also remember Muchmusic had a daily retro video show a few years back, but even that’s gone now. Also, there’s quite a few companies like Sears where I’d say, it would be great if they’d go back to existing.

So enjoy the retro donuts while you can, and eat as many as your arteries will allow. If they sell well, maybe they’ll make a return, soon, and bring some of the extinct Timbit varieties with them. Until then, enjoy the Tuscan Sausage Dumplings.

Mamma Mea Culpa

About a year ago, I wrote about the struggles of the Vancouver Canucks, and their ham-handed handling of a midseason coaching change. I complained that while hockey pundits were critical of the team, they didn't do enough to call out the team's institutional incompetence. I also insinuated that new coach Rick Tocchet was a downgrade who was only getting the job through connections with management.

Well, boy do I look stupid now; the Canucks have the second best record in the league. And now I see that Tocchet is far and away the favourite to win coach of the year.

So I decided to go back through my sports articles to see if there were any more embarrassing proclamations I should admit to.

Weep, The North

I talked about the Raptors predicament in 2017, in which they were a good team that didn't appear to have any chance of winning a championship. This was partly due to a lack of superstar talent on the team. And that discussion became a jumping-off point into the philosophy of sports fandom.

But it turned out that journey into sport existentialism was a little premature. Just over a year after that post, the Raptors took advantage of an awkward situation in San Antonio to trade Demar Derozan for Kawhi Leonard, then took advantage of a banged-up Warriors team in the final, and won an unexpected title. So although the deep discussion of the philosophical and psychological purpose of sports fandom is intriguing, it turns out the Raptors weren't as mired in hopelessness as it seemed.

Also bonus marks for my comment that the Leafs might be blocked from winning a Stanley Cup by, "a dynasty developing in Edmonton." For a start, the Leafs current problem is being blocked from getting out of their own division; running into a good team in the finals is a bridge they’ll cross if they ever come to it. And then Edmonton seems cursed by a similar inability to build into contender status.

Of Goats And Men

I mostly stand behind this discussion of the difficulty in naming the best players in various sports. Just keep in mind that it was written back when Brady could still wear all his Superbowl rings on one hand. But it does fall back on the idea that Bill Belichick made Tom Brady look better than he was. And now that we’ve seen each of them without the other, that sounds pretty stupid.

Mighty Vocal People 

In a discussion of how we determine who gets Most-Valuable-Player awards, I argued that the support for Mike Trout was based on the lazy notion that he was the overall best player, rather than best that season, and the award would really go to Mookie Betts. You guessed it, Trout was named MVP. But I will point out that Betts had a better batting average, home run, and RBI numbers than Trout.

Minor Obstacles

I talked about the controversy at the start of Kris Bryant's career, as the Chicago Cubs were waiting a couple of weeks to call him up to the majors, in order to take advantage of a loophole in the rules that would force Bryant to stay with the team an extra year. I then went over a humourous preview of the career ahead of him, in order to ridicule the odd path many major league careers go through.

But his career didn't really go that way. Obviously, I never considered the posibility that he and the Cubs would actually win the World Series. I think I can be forgiven for that. But the rest of the preview was based on him following the money to big market teams. Unfortunately, injuries have curtailed his effectiveness, and he instead signed with the Colorado Rockies, usually one of Major League Baseball's small spenders. That's unfortunate for him, and makes my prediction look silly. However I stand behind the point I was making: That the weird business of baseball makes for odd, circuitous careers, so complaining about a small loophole is a waste of time.

There's No Nation Like Donation

Universities will often go to alumni looking for donations, which has become a little awkward. I'm sure it made sense in my parents' generation, when tuition was low and education was undertaken in a spirit of enlightenment.

But today's grads look at it differently. Obviously, many are held back by the fact that they're asked for a donation while still paying down student debt. But even if debt isn’t holding them back, university plays a different part in our lives now.

Today, it's more of a business proposition.  The university may not be making a profit on education, but it is charging as much as it can while still remaining a sensible value proposition, much a products on the free market are. Tuition is an investment, that — while expensive — will pay off in the long term. Once you’ve paid a huge amount of money as an expensive long term business investment, You’re less likely to think of that institution as a charity.

It would be like if you bought a car, and it's a really nice car, and you're glad you bought it. But then a year later the car company phones you to ask if you'd care to give them more money. It's like, yes, I like the car, but I paid fair market value for it, so I assumed that was the end of the transaction. It’s not something I think about donating to.

There's lots of things that ask for donations today. I mean, Wikipedia is one biggest ones. It's such an unusual institution to begin with: a widely-used resource that doesn't make a profit or get government grants. So I don’t have any automatic assumptions about giving to it.

In sharp contrast to the University situation, Wikipedia is an institution that you've never given money to through payment for services or through taxes. So its donation requests are unusual: usually charitable giving is purely altruistic, given to a service that others — less-fortunate people — will use. It's not too often that you’re asked to donate for your own sake. The closest parallel is a busker, but you generally don’t choose your buskers. Okay, maybe a better parallel would be a museum with a “recommended donation,” which is kind of what the Wikipedia donation request/guilt-trip is.

(To be clear, I’m not comparing Wikipedia to a University education. I’m aware that the latter is necessarily a lot more expensive than the former)

And now, at this time of the rolling year, many institutions are asking for donations. Not just charities, but also open-source software, and public radio & TV. It’s a reminder of how our world has developed a lot of “free” options that nevertheless need to pay the bills, and non-mainstream media tastes will make it more likely you’ll encounter them. It makes me wonder if this is going to be a viable way of keeping things operating in the future: A labour of love that stays afloat with donations. It’s an odd idea, because we think of donations as going to the less fortunate, in a situation where users of the service are in no position to contribute. But now we’re talking about users paying for their own service, but voluntarily, and hoping that the donations from the wealthy or extra-generous will offset those who can’t or won’t contribute. 

Will it work in the long term? I’m skeptical, though some open-source software has been sustained for a while now with a combination of volunteering and semi-self-interested donations from people and corporations. So maybe it can work.